CSi: Death of A Dispatcher
by A Rhea King
Summary: Capri the Dispatcher was a thorn in all the EMS and CSI sides. When she is rehired, someone decides to stop her, and the CSI find themselves prime suspects.
1. Present 11:45 PM

Death of A Dispatcher  
by  
A. Rhea King

* * *

Forward and condolences:  
This story has changed _A LOT_.  
The mostly funny story line is everything that happens in November.  
All the present stuff really wasn't an after thought, just a poorly implemented plan. I put the two together for (dum-dum-duuuuum) _the script_.  
So I had a really, really bad idea.  
Sorry.  
If it gets real bad, close your eyes, go to your happy place, and skip a chapter... or two. or three. or the entire thing. Your call.  
I'm going to go stick my head in the sand now and think of something else I can screw up tonight.

* * *

**Chapter 1 : Present – 11:45 PM**

Catherine stopped her Denali outside the apartment buildings. The police cars had drawn a crowd even at ten after midnight. She unclipped her seatbelt, and got out. Catherine walked around to the back and checked that her field kit was stocked. She turned and stopped, staring at Officer Grenske. He stood in a pose meant to block her from walking around him.

"You can't be here," he told her.

Catherine offered a smile. "I can't? Then why did you call--"

"Catherine, _you_ can't be here. My partner's calling for another CSI."

"Why?"

"That's all I can say. You have to go back. IA is sending rep to the lab to talk to you."

"Why, Rich? Who was killed?" she demanded.

"The vic is Capri."

"Capri..." Catherine knew the name sounded familiar. Why did it sound familiar? Who?

"The dispatcher that nearly got you and Greg killed."

In an instant half a dozen thoughts ran through her mind: Capri is dead? There is a God! Wait. Capri is dead? Oh shit! And the entire call center heard me... OH _SHIT_!

Catherine dodged Grenske, rushing into the ground floor apartment. There were three other officers inside and they turned as she passed. She whisked past them faster than they could realize who she was and that she shouldn't be there. Catherine came across the body in a bedroom and stopped short. Capri Martinez lay on the floor, her dead eyes staring at Catherine's shoes. Blood had soaked the back of her shirt and jeans. The room was a mess – there had been a struggle here. The killer had strangled her with a tubing of some kind, but at first glance Catherine couldn't tell if that had been before or after whatever had caused her to bleed.

"Catherine, you can't be here," a voice said behind her.

Catherine didn't move.

Officer Grenske laid his hands on Catherine's shoulders; pulling her in the direction he wanted her to go. Catherine couldn't take her eyes off the body until it was cut off from view. Suddenly she rushed out of the house to the Denali. She stopped at the back, sitting down on the bumper. Officer Grenske walked up to her as her cell phone started ringing. With shaking hands she answered the phone.

"Willows."

"What is going on out there?" Grissom asked. "When I said I was sending Nick, Gary got on and said I had to send Riley or someone from swing. Who is the victim, Catherine?"

She put her hand over her face, closing her eyes tight. Between clenched teeth she told him, "Capri Martinez."

He paused. "Get back to the lab right now."

Catherine tossed her kit in the back, slammed the door shut, and then climbed into the driver's seat. She tossed her phone on the passenger seat, but paused, looking at it. She remembered Greg sitting there, looking like every tooth in his head was rattling as she drove the vehicle through the dead of night over a wagon trail...


	2. Nov 6 4:20 AM

**Chapter 2 : November 6 – 4:20 AM**

The Denali jumped and hopped and bounced down the road. With one hand pushed against the center console, and the other gripping the handle over the door, Greg braced himself to keep from being thrown around.

"You, uhm... Might want to slow down, Catherine."

She didn't answer like she'd heard him. She was muttering angrily to herself. He wasn't sure if it was the road, the Denali, him, or Capri that she was muttering at, but someone or something was in a world of trouble.

The road suddenly veered left and up. She gave it a little more gas and they headed up the rutted, washboard road. Greg didn't consider it a road, but apparently the county did. They'd stuck a sign to mark it as road 89. It had started as a well-maintained road, passed a couple sleeping farmhouses, then got strange. Miles of nothing passed. No houses, telephone poles, or other cars. The road seemed to turn into someone's front yard and disappear, only to be found again on the other side of the property. He'd suggested they should stop and see if it was a road. Catherine said there weren't any lights on and they'd be fine. Over the next hour, the road began to slowly deteriorate and he was fairly certain they'd somehow found themselves on some geological feature that resembled a road. Until they came across a road sign for county road 92. Their problems went from bad to worse. The sign was bent over like someone had run into it and it wasn't green and white; it was rusted brown with some white lettering and outlines where years ago there had been letters that allowed the rest of the metal to be slowly bleached by the sun. A crossroads met here with ghosts of roads going in all directions. Catherine looked at him as she stopped in the crossroads.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"Which way?"

"You're driving."

She handed him the directions she'd written down. "We were supposed to turn at road 89, go down to road 74, turn left, and then right on road 92. Did you see a road 74? And here's a sign for 92."

"Catherine, Capri got off work a while ago." Greg pointed at the clock that read twenty after five. "Let's go back to where we had radio service, and get directions again."

Catherine held up the radio. "No more battery."

"Fine. Cell service will work."

"We haven't had cell service for four hours, Greg."

Greg looked in his side mirror, back toward the dark farmhouse. "Let's go back to that farmhouse, explain that we're really lost, and ask to use a phone."

"Forward it is." Catherine started driving again.

Greg looked at her in disbelief. "My God!"

"What?"

"You're a man trapped in a woman's body."

"What?"

"You refuse to stop for directions."

"It's in the middle of the night, Greg."

The Denali jumped as it hit a rock and slid left. Greg grabbed the handle and braced himself against the console with his foot.

"This is a bad, bad, bad idea."

"You're a woman trapped in a man's body. You won't stop whining!"

"Hey! We're lost! I said we were lost when there were still telephone poles and cars passing us. That's not whining. That's point out that--"

The Denali hoped up suddenly and came down hard. Metal groaned and crunched.

"WOULD YOU SLOW DOWN!" Greg bellowed.

She did slow down, glancing at him as the road smoothed out.

"See. It's all better now."

Greg sniffed. He looked ahead.

"Then why is there smoke coming out from under the hood?"

She looked ahead and sighed. Catherine slowed to a stop as the oil symbol lit up on the dashboard. The engine started knocking and then died.

"You broke the Denali, Catherine," Greg calmly stated.

Then the headlights and interior lights faded.

In the pitch black Greg started, "Catherine, I think--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"I was just going to--"

"Shut up, Greg."

"But I was just going to--"

"I'm about five seconds away from shooting you in the leg. Shut up, Greg."

They sat in the dark, listening to the dead engine tick as it began cooling.


	3. Present 12:05 AM

**Chapter 3 : Present – 12:05 AM**

Grissom charged down the hall toward Ecklie and the Internal Affairs representative.

"My CSI did not do this," Grissom told them. "Why are you questioning them?"

"They are suspects until proven otherwise," Ecklie told Grissom.

"Why? Because they were angry at Capri for nearly getting Catherine and Greg killed?"

"That's a start," Ecklie admitted.

"They did not kill this woman, Conrad. I am particularly certain Greg had nothing to do with this."

"Why are you so certain CSI Sanders didn't murder her?" the IA representative asked.

Grissom wasn't about to give her anything. "They are innocent, Conrad."

"We're not just questioning your CSI," the IA representative told Grissom. "We're questioning everyone who had a grudge against her. And we've agreed to let Ecklie handle the case and keep you and CSI Adams on the team."

"How gracious, but--"

"Gil," Ecklie said, turning to face him. "Do you understand how important it is for you to tread very lightly right now? Do you understand what it took to keep you on Capri Martinez's case?"

Logic seized Grissom's anger in a dead-stop grip around the throat and put much needed perspective on the moment. He realized he was fighting against loosing another CSI, but being angry was only going to get him removed from the case. He had to stay on it if he wanted to protect his CSI.

"I need to interview them," Grissom informed the two.

"You can't speak to them until we've finished," the IA representative told Grissom.

Grissom glanced at the woman. "Be quick about it. I have to question them about the case."

There was sincerity in her offer when she told Grissom, "I'll share my notes."

"With all due respect, Miss, I need to perform my own interviews."

"I'll let you know when I'm done."

Grissom nodded.

"Riley's already at the crime scene," Ecklie told him.

Grissom turned and walked away. He glanced back, seeing Ecklie and the IA representative were talking again. He slipped into the Chem Lab, surprising Henry.

"Give me a piece of paper and a pen," Grissom ordered.

Henry handed him a notepad and pen. Grissom scribbled out a note, folded it, and handed it to Henry.

"Greg is sitting outside of the interrogation room 'A.' Give this to him, get his answer, and call me right away."

"What am I supposed to ask him?"

"It's in the note. Hurry."

"Okay," Henry answered as he took it and hurried out of the room.

Grissom left through the opposite door to avoid Ecklie and the IA representative.


	4. Nov 5 11:45 PM

**Chapter 4 : November 5 – 11:45 PM**

"Assignments," Grissom announced as he entered the break room.

He handed out sheets of paper to his CSI, two to Nick.

"Why are these addresses on the same street?" Nick asked.

"Likelihood they're related, Nicky. I have to have the reviews in tomorrow, so I won't be available unless it's an emergency," Grissom told them.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned, finding them smiling and snickering at him.

"What?"

"You slept at your desk again, didn't you?" Catherine asked.

Grissom didn't answer.

Greg tapped his forehead. "Probably shouldn't forget to call Sheila about the requisition form."

Grissom reached up and pulled off the sticky note stuck to his forehead. He shook his head as he walked out. Gina aught him outside the door and handed him another call sheet. He read it and then returned to the break room.

"Catherine and Greg, you have this one. Give Nick and Warrick yours." Grissom handed Greg the paper.

"I have to do three? Really?" Nick asked.

"Whiner," Warrick jabbed.

"I'm not whining. I just want calls for addresses I can readily find without relying on some dimwit dispatcher."

"You're whining," Greg told him.

"I hate everyone I work with."

"No you don't and that's my line."

Nick walked away with his calls, saying something under his breath.

"Is it just me, or is he in a bad mood tonight?" Catherine asked.

Warrick chuckled. "On his first call tonight, our favorite dispatcher sent him to an imaginary crime scene at an imaginary address with imaginary stiffs."

"Doctor Grissom!" Catherine started in high-pitched, whiny of a voice as possible. "I'm only giving you the address from the static map. How was I supposed to know that was a dead end road? There's construction all over town! Doctor Grissom, Gary said that address was right. Gary said. Doctor Grissom, your CSI are being rude and mean. Doctor Grissom..."

Grissom and Greg weren't amused, but Warrick and Catherine were in stitches laughing at Catherine's imitation of Capri the Dispatcher.

"Capri has only been on the job for a week," Grissom reminded them. "She's getting better."

"Better!?" Catherine scoffed. "I think it's possible that she's gotten worse. Maybe if everyone didn't let her off because of her double D's, she might figure out what a dispatcher really is."

"I have never seen her. What's my excuse?" Grissom asked.

"Her voice," Warrick answered.

Greg added, "But she is nice. I think she's really trying."

"You only like her 'cause she has a sexy voice," Warrick added. "I was fooled until I found myself in Henderson and my call was in Paradise."

"You should have known better," Grissom said as he walked out.

"Hey, there are two Yucca Drives, Grissom. Kinda hard to know better, don't'cha think?"

Grissom didn't answer. Warrick looked at Catherine and Greg.

"Don't you think?"

They shrugged as they got up.

"I still think we should give her a couple more weeks," Greg told the two. "I think she will get better."

"I think so also, Greg," Grissom told him. "All of you made mistakes your first few weeks."

"Need I remind you that our mistakes didn't put people's lives at stake, Grissom?" she asked him as he left the break room.

"Come one, Greggo. Let's go see who died and if they deserved it."

The two got up, heading for the door.

"Have fun in BFE," Warrick told them.

"You're just jealous," Catherine taunted.

Warrick let himself be pulled into the humor. "I am, am I?"

"Yeah. We got our one measly call and a nice drive ahead." Catherine waived the call ticket as she walked out of the break room. "Sucker!"

Greg followed her out, both he and Warrick laughing at her joke.


	5. Present 12:26 AM

**Chapter 5 : Present – 12:26 AM**

Grissom walked up to the door of the apartment. CSI Riley Adams greeted him at the door with a quick smile and nod. He wasn't comfortable working with her yet, and certainly didn't trust her instincts as a CSI. Yet, he knew this case required his trust. She had to handle the evidence since she was the most unbiased.

Luckily, she seemed to be willing to let him lead when she asked, "Where do you want me? Conrad told me the background. I imagine you have an idea of what we need to look at first."

"Work with the corpse. I'll take the rest of the house. You'll also be handling processing all the evidence."

She nodded and they parted ways.

Riley walked into the bedroom, flashing a smile at David.

"Hell of a night," David told her.

She nodded. "What does it look like so far?"

"Excessive. I've got four shots to the chest, and they're precise. The killer knew where to shoot to wound her, but not kill her. Then this tubing..."

Riley crouched down, snapping off photographs of the corpse and tubing before touching it. She picked up one end, looking at the plastic cap.

"That looks familiar."

"I thought so too. I'll make sure to get it to Hodges when I get back."

Riley nodded, standing up. She backed up, looking over the body. "She looks like she might have been going for the door and he caught her behind."

David shrugged. Another coroner came in and helped him move the corpse onto a gurney. Riley watched them leave before continuing to processes the bedroom. She paused at the door when she came across the first, and soon she'd discover last, piece of evidence in the room. There was half a bloody thumbprint pressed against the doorframe. She took pictures of it, and prepared to lift it.


	6. Nov 6 12:30 AM

**Chapter 6 : November 6 – 12:30 AM**

After fast stop at a McDonalds, Catherine and Greg were on the road toward their crime scene. Greg munched quietly – Catherine noticed that putting food in front of Greg was always the best way to shut him up, not that she cared tonight – and bobbed his head to a song on his iPod.

"Greg, get the map," Catherine said.

Greg pulled an earbud out. "Huh?"

"Get the map out. I want to know where I have to turn off."

Greg set his food on the dash and dug a map from the side pocket.

"Call sheet," he said, holding out his hand.

Catherine pulled it from her vest pocket and handed it over. Greg tapped the map light overhead and began searching for the location. He frowned.

"It's not on here."

"Has to be."

"It's not on here. This address looks like a country road and state map doesn't have all the country roads."

"What about the county map?"

Greg set the call sheet on the dash and dug through the side pocket and glove box. He looked at her.

"County map isn't here."

"Maybe it's in the back."

Greg unbuckled and started to climb over the console.

"Greg."

He stopped, looking at her. She pulled onto the shoulder and gave him a level look.

"Are you sure you're old enough to drink?"

"What?"

"You are not climbing over the seats. Get out and go look."

"I could'a done it, you know."

"Go."

He climbed out and went to the back. Catherine listened to him rifle through the back. He shut the back door and then climbed in the passenger back door. She looked back, watching him tear through the back. He turned and sat down on the middle seat.

With a boyish shrug, he informed her, "No county map."

It was cute how he did it and made her chuckle. He smiled, returning to the front seat. Catherine picked up her radio from the dash and stared at it.

"I only have a quarter battery on here. Nick promised me he'd put it on the charger."

"We'll have to string him up."

She chuckled, looking at him. "But that's not the worst news, Greggo."

"Yeah? What's the worst news?"

"Capri is working tonight."

"So call into dispatch. She doesn't answer the phones."

Catherine pulled her cell phone from the clip on the dash and tapped the face to wake it up. She started dialing before she realized she had no signal.

"Do you have any signal?" she asked him.

Greg checked his phone. "Nope. We are in the _dead zone_."

Catherine laughed, looking at him. "Are you sure you only had coffee and a burger tonight?"

"Coke and a burger and pretty sure. It's too warm for coffee. They said it's supposed to drop to low thirties after midnight, though. No snow. I love winter in the desert. It's so extreme."

Catherine couldn't stop staring at him and when he finished she laughed.

"Was that your five second weather update?"

"Yep!"

"I guess we'll try our luck with Capri. Cross your fingers she can read the map."

"And toes and eyes and arms and legs and hair and testic--"

"Good. You've got us covered with the crossed stuff. Keying now." Catherine keyed the radio before he could continue. "Willows to dispatch."

Following a brief pause a warm, sexy voice responded, "Dispatch. Go ahead."

Greg whispered, "The misguided one responds."

Catherine had keyed the radio and almost started laughing. "Dispatch. We need directions to our crime scene."

"Give me the address."

"Like that'll help," Greg whispered.

Catherine tried not to laugh again. She grabbed the paper, smacking his arm as she pulled her hand back. He only grinned.

"Address following. 34452 County Road 92. Crossroads are not given. Further details, sixty miles northwest of Las Vegas municipal."

"Stand by."

"Yea! She's worked her way to stand by instead of hold please!" Greg whispered.

Catherine looked at him. "You just pretend to like her, don't you?"

"She knows I pick on her behind her back. I pick on you behind your back, too."

Catherine lifted her eyebrows. "You do?"

"It's safer that way. You can't hit me then."

She laughed. "I think I need to hurt you now."

He grinned. "I'll get the handcuffs."

Catherine started to throw a come back when Capri came back on, "Directions to follow."

Catherine turned the call sheet over, grabbed a pen from the cup holder, and keyed the radio.

"Go for directions," Catherine told her.

She dropped the radio on her lap and started writing the directions down as Capri rattled them off. Catherine finished and stared at the long, long, long set of directions.

Catherine picked up the radio and keyed it. "Dispatch, have you confirmed these directions? These don't look correct. They take us southwest not northwest."

"Directions have been confirmed."

"By who?" Catherine demanded.

There was a pause. Although Capri's voice was still sexy when she replied, the two could hear anger in it. "CSI Willows, those directions are accurate. I confirmed them with static maps."

"Yes, but have you confirmed them with your _supervisor_?" Catherine asked.

Catherine was sure that somewhere out there, Nick and Warrick were listening to this. Nick and Warrick at least would be grinning. Grissom would probably be getting a phone call from Gary, the dispatch supervisor, telling him how, once again, CSI Willows was rude to one of his dispatchers (mainly Capri). She didn't care. She didn't want to be wandering around the desert in the dead of night with bogus directions.

"CSI Willows, the directions are accurate. What other assistance do you require?"

"A confirmation these directions are accurate."

"Dispatcher 324 out."

Catherine stared at her radio for a moment, jarred by anger of what Capri just did. She didn't notice that Greg wasn't laughing or joking anymore.

"That was rude," Greg finally said.

"Willows to dispatch."

There was no response.

"Willows to dispatch."

There was no response still.

"I'm going to kill that little bitch!" Catherine hissed.

She looked at Greg. He looked from the radio to her eyes.

"Do you want me to try?" Greg offered.

She handed him the radio.

"Sanders to Dispatch."

"Go ahead," Capri said.

"Hey, Capri, I'm with Willows. I know you said that the directions were confirmed, but they take us southwest. Do you mind giving me the directions going the other way?"

"What are you talking about?" Catherine whispered.

Capri didn't respond.

"If you confirm for me there's a lobster dinner bonus attached," Greg bribed.

The silence was so long he thought she wasn't going to get an answer.

"Stand by CSI Sanders. Reconfirming route."

"Thank you, Capri."

"Welcome. Stand by."

Greg looked at Catherine. He could tell by the tension in her face she wasn't about to let this go. Capri stepped on the wrong toes and this was not going to end pretty for one of them.

"CSI Sanders, I rechecked directions with static and dynamic mapping. Those directions are correct for that address."

Before Greg could key the radio Nick came across the radio with a snarling, angry voice. "Are you _sure_ that address exists in that location, Dispatcher 324? I mean, the directions you gave to me earlier led to a construction site. I know. I finished my scene, and then followed your direction from that dynamic map you just confirmed with."

Silence.

"CSI Sanders, directions confirmed. Will that be all?" Capri asked.

Greg sighed. He knew fighting with her wasn't going to get him any closer to the crime scene. He keyed the radio.

"Yes. Thanks Capri."

"Dispatcher 324 out."

Greg set the radio on the dash in front of Catherine. "It's your call, Catherine."

She looked at her phone again. She really wished that she had service and could use Google maps or Mapquest to confirm the directions.

As if he could read her mind Greg suggested, "Why don't we drive back a little ways until we get service? I could use my phone to check the directions."

Catherine knew exactly when the service had vanished. They passed Angel Peak forty miles back and entered the dead zone for the next hundred miles west, south, and north. People out here relied on landlines, radios, or satellite communication.

"That's almost thirty minutes back. She seemed pretty sure of herself. We'll try."

Greg didn't argue or agree. She looked at him. He had returned to eating his dinner. She chuckled as she pulled back on the road.

"What?" Greg asked with his mouth full.

"Don't worry, Greg. You have food. Life is good."

"Hey! I'm hungry! I ate at seven this morning and then it was just a granola bar and apple juice."

"Still think you'll win the bet, huh?"

"What bet?" he asked again with a mouth full of food.

"The one that has both you and Nick eating only granola bars and apple juice."

He stopped chewing, staring at her. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"Oh no, Greg," she told him with an impish grin. "I would never tell him or use it for blackmail some day. Never, ever."

"You suck." Greg kept eating.

She didn't respond and they were silent for a minute. He grabbed his Coke and then stopped, peering curiously at her.

"Has Nick cheated?"

Catherine just smiled. "Why would I tell you that and risk my blackmail information?"

"You're evil. Evil! Evil! Evil! I'm not talking to you any more tonight."

She just laughed – because she knew that the sun never rising was more likely to happen than Greg not talking to her again.


	7. Present 12:45 AM

**Chapter 7 : Present – 12:45 AM**

With four chairs between them, Nick and Greg sat in the hall outside of interrogation room 'A.'

"I always knew that girl was going to get herself in trouble," Nick said.

Greg didn't reply.

Nick looked at him. The young man looked like he was about to break down in tears at any moment.

"Are you upset she's dead?"

Greg didn't answer.

"Greg?"

"Leave me alone."

"Why would you be upset about her being dead? Do you remember what she did to you and Catherine? You were in ICU for two weeks because of her!"

"Shut up, Nick."

"Man, you got way to soft'a heart sometimes. She doesn't deserve sympathy. She got an EMT killed when she sent me and him and his partner to a shoot out. Two houses were lost because the firefighters--"

"SHUT UP NICK!" Greg bellowed.

The two glared at each other.

"She's dead. You're happy. Stop talking about something you know nothing about."

Greg looked away.

"You do care she's dead," Nick said.

Greg's angry expression darkened.

Nick shook his head, looking away. He didn't understand why, and he wasn't going to press it. The two looked up when Henry approached. He handed a note to Greg.

"I'm supposed to wait for an answer," Henry told him.

Greg unfolded the note and almost fell apart. He leaned over, crushing the note in his hands.

"Tell him yes, forty-four, and several times since I'd asked her."

"Grissom will know what that means?" Henry asked.

"Yes."

Henry hurried off. Greg sat up and slid the wad of paper into his pocket. Nick waited for him to tell him what it had been about, but Greg never said anything. Nick looked away; guessing whatever had been on the note was none of his business.


	8. Nov 6 4:00 AM

**Chapter 8 : November 6 – 4 AM**

"What do you mean they never reported to the crime scene?" Grissom demanded.

Ecklie had stopped him as he had cut through the reception area on his way to the garage.

"The officers called dispatch. They said Catherine and Greg never showed up. The officer's supervisor woke me up when he couldn't reach you. Where were you?"

"In a records. Has someone tried to call them?" Grissom asked as he pulled his cell phone from his belt.

"Yes. The calls keep going to voice mail. The officer said it's a dead zone out there."

"Has anyone radioed them?"

"Yes. Dispatch, me, the officers – they aren't responding."

"What was their last known location?"

"Ask Capri," Nick snarled from behind Grissom.

Grissom turned. He stood in the door, his arms crossed, and his mood no better than earlier.

"That stupid dispatcher gave them directions earlier and what little I heard, there were far to many turns for it to be right."

"Didn't they question it?" Ecklie asked.

"Yeah. Catherine demanded Capri to verify the directions. She stopped talking to Catherine, and then Greg asked. She said she confirmed with static and dynamic maps."

"What about a supervisor?" Ecklie asked.

"No. Catherine even asked, but Capri refused."

"Well, they'll figure it out sooner or later and head back into cell phone or radio range."

"You do realize that they were last heard over five hours ago, right?" Nick snapped.

Grissom and Ecklie both looked at him.

"Meaning?" Ecklie asked.

"Meaning, Conrad, don't you think Catherine's smart enough she would have noticed something was wrong by now? They should have been on the radio or phone hours ago with her demanding to speak to Gary to get the right directions. Something is wrong."

"Or maybe not. Maybe she decided to look for the address herself."

"You don't know Catherine."

"I do know her. When she's mad, she gets stubborn."

"Okay. Okay." Grissom said, heading off the fight. "Nick, go to dispatch and find out what directions Capri gave them."

"Capri got off at midnight."

"Then see if they recorded the conversation."

"On the radio?"

"Nick. Go."

Nick tromped off.

"What is his problem?" Ecklie asked.

"Capri. Conrad, you have got to talk to Gary about her. She needs to be pulled from duty and retrained. She really has no idea how important it is that she gets EMS or CSI within a block of the crime scene, at the very least."

"Don't you think you should know the area by now?"

"With the new suburbs that's getting more difficult. But I'll be sure to note your concern at my next team meeting."

Ecklie frowned at him. "I'll mention something to Gary. Don't call me unless they don't show up." He walked away.

"Thanks for the concern, Conrad."

Ecklie didn't look back.

"Gil," Gina said from behind the receptionist desk.

He turned to her.

"Maybe you should head out in that area. Or send someone to go out to look for them."

"Are you volunteering? Because we can't leave with our case load tonight."

Gina stood up, grabbed her jacket and purse, and headed for the elevator. She glanced back at him.

"Text me the address they were going to. And tell Nick to call me if he gets the directions."

Grissom hadn't really expected her to agree. He glanced at her desk when the phone started ringing.

"Gina. Gina?" Grissom turned, seeing the elevator door close between her and him. He realized now he probably should have not let her leave. Grissom hurried to his office so he could answer the call.


	9. Present 1:27 AM

**Chapter 9 : Present – 1:27 AM**

Brass walked across the parking lot to an officer standing with a couple. They were young, and Brass guessed they were not from Nevada or Las Vegas. They looked a little shell shocked by everything happening right now.

"She says she saw something unusual. She didn't think anything of it at the time," the officer told Brass.

He took out his notebook and pen. "What was it?" he asked the woman

"An ambulance," the woman said.

"An ambulance?"

She nodded. "It was down there, at the end of the building. But there weren't any lights."

"How long have you two lived here?"

"About six months."

Six months? And this was shocking to them? "And you'd never seen an ambulance here for an emergency?"

"Not without it's lights on."

"Did you see the license plate?"

She shook her head. Brass jotted down some reminders of the conversation.

"Well, I'll let--"

"It had the number three fourteen on the side of the hood."

Brass looked up at her. "Three fourteen?"

She nodded, adding, "And it was blue and white."

Brass jotted that down. She was just able to narrow down a dozen private and one public ambulance service down to three. And with an ambulance number, he might narrow it more. Brass fished a business card out of his pocket, handing it to them.

"If you remember anything else, call me."

The two nodded. Brass turned and headed across the parking lot. He pulled his cell phone from his belt. "Yeah. Get me the supervisor numbers for Valley Emergency Service, Centennial Hills Medic Service, and Life Shield."


	10. Nov 6 5:00 AM

**Chapter 10 : November 6 – 5 AM**

There were a lot of myths about the desert, and most could be debunked as soon as a person spent just one day in it, but the one that it could drop below freezing in November when the sun went down was true.

Greg thought about that as he blew on his cold fingers trying to warm them, and glared across the dark dash, dark hood, into the dark desert.

"Stop blowing on your fingers, Greg, you'll make it worse," Catherine ordered.

He turned in his seat. He couldn't see her but he knew she was lying on the middle seat. She moved and the sound of her coat brushing against vinyl was loud in the silence.

"Are you sure we should wait until sunrise?" Greg asked. He was feeling increasingly anxious.

"Yes."

"But wouldn't it make more sense to start back now? While it's dark? It's going to--"

"Greg, we can't see anything and I don't feel like wandering down a road we're not even sure _is_ a road with a couple of flashlights. We're staying here until dawn."

Greg didn't like this plan. "They don't even know where we're at."

"You're whining again. Don't you have your iPod on you?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Plug in and tune out. I'm going to take a nap."

Greg sighed, looking out the windshield. He was pretty sure it was the windshield from the direction he was sitting.

Somewhere off to his left a coyote howled. He sighed. He liked the outdoors, but not like this. He had never been one for camping or wandering around the woods – or desert – in the dead of night.

Another coyote howled and yapping. It sounded like the two were only a few feet from the Denali.

When all of a sudden a chorus of yapping, howling coyotes broke out his heart leapt into his throat.

"Maybe we should start back now," Greg told Catherine.

She chuckled and he didn't like the sound of it. She was going to make fun of him.

"And wander around with the coyotes? They might think you looked like dinner, Greggo."

"It's going to get hot when the sun comes up."

The coyotes stopped, only to suddenly burst into their eerie chorus moments later. Greg fumbled around until he found the lock for all the doors. The sound of the locks engaging was loud, despite the nearby canine choir.

Catherine joined in their laughter. "Good job, Greg. Get all the doors locked. Those coyotes might somehow figure out how to open car doors," Catherine teased.

Greg glared in her direction, but he didn't retort. Slowly he leaned back into the corner the passenger seat and door made. His head rested against the seat as he dozed off to the song of the coyote.


	11. Present 12:52 AM

**Chapter 11 : Present – 12:52 AM**

Catherine settled into the chair across from the IA representative. The woman was a solid built woman, which showed with her tailored dark blue suit. Her brown hair was twisted into a loose bun with wisps of hair framing her face. Catherine suspected she'd been drug from her bed. Catherine guessed from the small diamond ring on her left hand ring finger, the woman probably did so reluctantly.

She started the video camera next to her recording. "My name is Jackie. Please state your name."

"CSI Catherine Willows."

Jackie flipped through some papers, grabbed a stack, and set them on top. She settled down, looking up at Catherine.

"What was your relationship to Capri Martinez?"

"There wasn't any."

"You didn't know her?"

"I didn't say that. I said I didn't have a relationship with her."

"Did you have amicable feelings toward her?"

Catherine leaned on the table. "I didn't want her in a position where lives were at risk, Jackie. You can stop fishing for that answer. Did I want her dead? No. I just wanted her gone, I wanted my partners and me safe, and I wanted EMS to be able to find locations of emergencies. Capri was keeping that from happening."

"On November of last year, there was an incident involving Capri. Let's talk about that."

"It wasn't an _incident_. It was a disaster that nearly got me and CSI Sanders killed. She said she confirmed the directions, she didn't, we ended up stranded in the desert for four days."

"When you did reach help, why didn't you go to the hospital?"

Catherine shook her head, sitting back. "I had to say my peace."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Say your peace?"

"Yeah. I did."

"And in saying that peace I have a report that you told Capri you would destroy her, you could take everything she owned, and that this was your town."

Instinct told Catherine to choose her response carefully and tactfully. "I was angry. I was in pain. I was worried for my partner. I wasn't thinking straight."

"And if she hadn't quit, what would you have done?"

"Pressed her supervisor until he fired her."

"What do you mean by pressed?"

"I mean pester him, every day, point out every little mistake she made, until he fired her."

Jackie sat the stack of papers aside. "I'll call you if I need to ask more questions. You're free to go."

"You're not going to ask me where I was when Capri was murdered?"

"You were at 164 Rose Hip Circle. You ruled the death as suicide. The officer on scene tells me you decided it rather quickly, but you sent the body back for autopsy anyway just to be safe. Good procedure followed. And now you're free to return working on that case, Miss Willows."

Catherine hated it when IA knew her every little move. She got up and left the room. Outside Nick and Greg were waiting still. She sat down between them, in a chair nearer to Greg.

"How'd it go?" Nick asked.

"As good as an IA interview can go."

Nick nodded, looking into the room. Jackie was on her cell phone to someone.

"What do you think she's doing?"

"Either checking up on me, or checking up on her next victim." Catherine looked at Greg. "How you holding up, Greggo?"

"Fine," he quietly answered.

"Good. Call me if you need anything."

He nodded.

She stood and left the men to wait.


	12. Nov 6 4:00 PM

**Chapter 12 : November 6 – 4 PM**

"Grissom, get dressed," someone said.

Grissom woke up, jumping as clothes were shoved at him. He pushed them away, watching, Nick search his room.

"Where are you shoes?" Nick asked.

"Nick?" Grissom asked groggily. Grissom looked at the alarm clock on the table by his bed. It was only four. "Nick, what are you doing here?"

"Catherine and Greg never came back," Nick said. "Ecklie's been calling you."

Grissom propped up on one elbow, staring at Nick when he turned. "They never came back?"

"No. Lindsay and Catherine's mother called the lab, then Ecklie, then the Under Sheriff. No one knows where they're at, the directions weren't recorded, and Gina, Hodges, and Wendy have been out all day searching for them. We need to call in Search and Rescue."

"Coffee," Grissom said.

"What?" Nick asked back.

"Go make coffee. I'll be right out." Nick started for the door. "No. Wait. Take Hank out while I get dressed. I can get coffee at work."

"Come on boy," Nick called to Grissom's dog as he walked out of the room.

Grissom crawled out of bed and started dressing.


	13. Present 1:30 AM

**Chapter 13 : Present – 1:30 AM**

Grissom wasn't having any better luck with evidence than Riley was. There were no signs of forced entry. In the living room he paused, staring at the wedding and bride magazines on the couch. Grissom picked up a notebook that listed the things that needed to be done for the wedding. What caught his attention was that a few of the words or letters were reversed. In a few instances, next to them, were slow, deliberate strokes, someone else had corrected the words. Grissom set the notepad down and continued to the kitchen.

On the table he found textbooks and homework for classes at the community college. On several papers he saw the similar errors, and more corrections made by the same person who'd corrected her list. It appeared that Capri might have mild dyslexia.

He went through the rest of the rooms, combing the place for evidence, any evidence. His meticulous eye spotted a single strand of hair near the front door, teetering on the edge of a vent. Grissom carefully collected it and held it up. At the end was the bulb, the one thing that would lead him to a killer he hoped. Grissom bagged it and continued searching. Outside the apartment, covered by the bushes, he came across the last piece of evidence he'd find. A pair of boot marks in the dirt right outside the living room window. Someone had stood here and watched Capri. Grissom snapped off photographs, and then returned to his vehicle to prepare casting paste.


	14. Nov 6 5:00 PM

**Chapter 14 : November 6 – 5 PM**

Greg and Catherine walked side by side. Greg argued hard about taking a backpack with their coats and blanket. He told Catherine they'd find someone before the sun went down. She argued back until he finally gave in. Since then, they hadn't spoken. It was now late afternoon, fifteen after four to be exact. The sun was merciless as it beat down on them. Greg knew he was sunburned, even if he couldn't see it the glaring heat. Even with his sunglasses the light off the dry land and sand was bright.

"I wish I had a hamburger," Greg said.

"I wish I had a bottle of water."

Greg bobbed his head. Silence came again, pulling each away to their private thoughts for several minutes.

"Gotta good story to tell?" Catherine asked.

"No."

The heat caused the air to shimmer and illusions of water formed on the sand in the distance. It was so hot and he was so tired. He let his eyes droop as he daydreamed of a swimming pool and bottles of chilled water and lots of girls and--

"Greg."

Greg didn't open his eyes. He wanted to stay in his daydream. It was nice and cool there.

"Greg, look at me. Greg?"

Greg opened his eyes, staring at the dry ground in his line of sight.

"Greg, look at me," Catherine urged.

Greg looked up. Something was wrong. The land jutted in angles it shouldn't and was colored bright colors like some comic book.

"Greg, please look at me," Catherine begged with desperation. "Open your eyes and look at me."

Greg jerked awake, staring up at Catherine. She knelt beside him, silhouetted against the sinking sun. Dusk sent colors shooting across the sky as the sun was slowly slipping below the horizon. The oncoming night was like a vampire pulling heat from the land. Greg sat up, looking at Catherine when she sat next to him.

"Are you with me again?" she asked.

"What happened? Weren't we walking? How did I get on the ground?"

"You passed out."

"For how long?"

"A couple hours. How are you feeling?"

His stomach rumbled loudly. She smiled.

"Aside from the obvious."

"I'm fine I think. Aren't we close to that farmhouse yet?"

"I don't know. Why don't we keep walking until dark and then we can take turns sleeping?"

Greg nodded.

She got up and held her hand out. He let her help him back to his feet and the two started walking again.


	15. Present 2:18 AM

**Chapter 15 : Present – 2:18 AM**

Riley walked in into the morgue, finding Grissom and Doctor Robbins waiting. Grissom didn't comment that she was twenty minutes late.

"Go ahead," Grissom told Robbins.

"Okay. We have four gunshot wounds to the chest. That didn't kill her though. It slowed her down. I also noticed she had a needle mark in her arm, the only one on her body. I sent blood to Henry and he came back fast with the tox results. She had a lethal injection of insulin."

"Was she diabetic?" Riley asked.

"Not according to her medical records?"

"How did you get those so fast?"

"I got them." Grissom pointed at her neck. "What about the ligature marks?"

"That was the tubing, and although the gunshots and insulin would have killed her, that's what actually killed her. Asphyxiation. Whoever attacked his young woman was very, very angry."

"Any sign of sexual trauma?" Riley asked.

"No. She did have sex today, several times I'd say, but there was no signs of trauma."

"She has a lot of hickies," Riley said with a smile. "Someone liked her."

"Yes." Robbins glanced at Grissom, a hiding unspoken message passing between the two. "But they respected her enough to keep them where they wouldn't show. I swabbed the hickies for saliva. I had to send the swabs and sperm for DNA."

"Had to?" Riley asked.

Grissom avoided the topic with a fast dodge. "Did Bobby give you the ballistics report yet? It wasn't a .44 was it?"

Riley looked at him. "Why would you ask that?"

"I have to ask that."

"Now hold on here!" Riley said. "There is something going on here that neither of you are telling me. You," she pointed at Robbins, "Say you _had to_ send saliva and sperm for DNA. You '_had to'_ implies your apologizing to Grissom for something. And you," she pointed at Grissom. "Are trying to clear a gun for someone. I cannot work this case blindfolded, Grissom. What is going on?"

"I can't divulge that, Riley. I can't risk you becoming bias on this case. That's why you're the only one touching the evidence right now."

"You suspect someone we know?"

"No. I don't suspect anyone we know."

"Then what? Why the secrets?"

"I just told you why."

"Is someone we know involved with this woman?"

"Was, yes."

Riley frowned, looking down at Capri. "Okay. Fair enough."

"Bobby hasn't gotten back with the ballistics yet. Sorry," Robbins answered.

Grissom walked away without another word. Riley flashed Robbins a smile and ran after Grissom, catching him at the elevator.

"Grissom, what if I find out it's the person you don't want it to be?"

Grissom looked at her. "Let the evidence talk, then the suspects."

Riley nodded. The two got on when the doors opened.


	16. Nov 6 7:00 PM

**Chapter 16 : November 6 – 7 PM**

Greg stopped walking.

"Is that really the farmhouse or a mirage?"

Catherine stopped next to him. She shook her head as she walked past. Greg walked next to her.

"Sorry about saying I'd shoot you in the leg," Catherine said.

Greg chuckled, making her smile.

"What?"

"I guess two days later is better than nothing."

"I hope so."

Greg stumbled and almost fell. She grabbed his arm, steadying him. She stayed close to him, prepared to keep help him stay on his feet.

"Did we really get that far from the farmhouse?" Greg asked.

"Maybe it was never really there," Catherine joked.

Greg didn't respond to the joke.

"What exactly is the bet with granola and apple juice about?" Catherine asked.

"It's stupid."

"But what is it?"

"Nothing."

Catherine smiled. "It's really stupid, isn't it?"

If he weren't already crimson from sunburn, she would have seen him blush.

"What is it about?" Catherine pressed.

Greg didn't answer.

"Greeeeggggoooooooo. What iiiiiiis iiiiiit?"

He tried not to grin but when she told her, "I'll pay ya to tell me," he giggled

"Come on. Tell me."

"Fine! Fine. It's about a tangerine Speedo."

"What?"

"It's about a tangerine Speedo."

"I don't get it."

Greg grinned, shaking his head. "Nick has this girlfriend, well, not a girlfriend, a friend that's a girl. She said that she'd sleep with the first of us that could fit into this size six tangerine Speedo she has."

Catherine laughed. "You two are dieting to fit into a tangerine Speedo so you can get laid?"

"Why does it sound stupid when you say it like that?"

"Because it is?"

Greg noticed the house was getting closer. "That is the farmhouse. How far did we drive after we passed it?"

"At least an hour."

"I hope they have ice cubes. Lots of them," Greg said.

She smiled. "I'll just settle for some shade and a phone."

Greg nodded. They walked in silence and the farmhouse grew closer. They were within a quarter mile when it became all too clear what they missed in passing last night. The farmhouse was a burnt out shell. Within a few hundred feet, they saw the rest. The barn was half burned. There was farm equipment close by, but dead weeds six feet high had consumed the equipment.

"I'll just settle for some shade for now."

They walked into the shade of the barn. In the deeper shade, at the far end of the barn, there was a pile of singed hay that had been broken loose. The two fell onto it. The hay stuck to their sweaty, burnt skin, but it was cool and both were too exhausted to care. The two CSI began to drift to sleep when a thought occurred to Greg.

"Catherine?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think Capri gave the firefighters directions when this place was on fire?"

There was a moment of silence and then she started laughing. The longer it lasted, the harder she laughed. Greg didn't laugh as hard, and fell asleep while she was still laughing. Catherine turned her head, watching him sleep. She reached over, patting his side.

"Sleep tight."

Catherine rolled onto her side, falling asleep.


	17. Present 3:10 AM

**Chapter 17 : Present – 3:10 AM**

"You've got male," Hodges said as he came into the lab and sat his results on the table next to Riley.

"I have mail?" she asked.

"No. Male. You've got male."

"I don't understand."

"Male. You have... You know what? Never mind. The hair is from a guy. Does that work better for you?"

"Yes. Anything fascinating about my _guy_?"

"He's brunette, dyed his hair black about six months ago, doesn't appear to be taking any heavy metals or toxins."

"Thanks." She turned back to her computer.

Hodges looked up as Wendy rushed past the lab. "Must be a fire."

Riley looked up at him. "Maybe you should go check that."

Hodges didn't catch her sarcasm. "I guess I should."

He left as the computer came up with results. 'No Match' flashed on the screen. Riley was frustrated for a few minutes before she started the search in another database.


	18. Nov 7 2:00 AM

**Chapter 18 : November 7 – 2 AM**

"Catherine," Greg said, shaking her.

She woke when coyotes yapping and howling erupted from the desert. Catherine pulled herself into a sitting position, watching the wide beam of the Maglite Greg held dance around them. As she pulled herself onto her feet, the reality of her sunburn hit. Every move, every light brush of her clothes, brought new sensations of pain. She felt like a bloated corpse as she tried to pull hay away from blisters that had burst.

"Catherine!" Greg hissed, and suddenly the beam of light was on her legs, then in her face.

She put her arm up to protect her eyes from the bright light. It dropped quickly.

"What do we do?"

"What do you mean?"

"They coyotes are right outside, Catherine. They've been getting closer."

Catherine walked over to the backpack and dug out her pistol. She walked to a space in the barn that faced where the noise was coming from and fired off three rounds.

The yapping and howling stopped immediately. She walked back, handed him the gun, and laid down again.

"Wake me when they decide to eat you.

"Okay."

The fact he didn't argue made her smile a little. She had no sooner drifted to sleep when the coyotes went off again and Greg shot off into the night. Catherine opened her eyes and sighed.

"Greg, maybe you could only shoot when they're actually somewhere nearby."

"They sound like a woman screaming."

"They're just coyotes. They only get like that when they've made a kill. So they're eating and you're freaking them out. Let them eat, they'll go away. Sit down and wait until you actually hear something outside the barn."

She heard him move nearby and then silence. She felt like she'd only been asleep for seconds when Greg started pulling on her arm, causing pain as he twisted and pulled the burnt skin. It ripped her out of sleep.

"Get up, Catherine, get up!"

"It's just coyotes, Greg!"

She heard a cat growl and hiss and spun around in time to see a cougar disappear from the light of Greg's flashlight. Catherine snatched her Maglite from the backpack and with shaking hands tried to turn it on. She shone her light in the opposite direction.

"I should be afraid now?" Greg asked.

"Yes."

Something moved to their left and both shone their light in that direction. The wall of the barn still stood there. Catherine noticed the hayloft and a ladder leading up to it.

"Let's go up there."

Greg shone his light up. "You're kidding. You want to go up there? The beams are half--"

They heard the cougar growl to their right and both turned, shining their light as the cougar lunged from the dark at Greg. He shot at the animal, tripping over his feet. The cougar disappeared into the dark as he fell back. Pain from his sunburn flared across his arm as it hit the floor and a board, and he let loose of the gun. It spun across the floor into the hay. Catherine grabbed Greg's arm and they ran for the ladder. Together they scrambled up the ladder to the loft. Greg turned to pull it up and his heart went into his throat.

"Not a dumb animal! _Not_ a dumb animal!"

She turned. His shaking Maglite illuminated the base of the ladder, and to their horror they discovered this cougar was more intelligent than they cared for. Treating the ladder like a tree, the cougar was climbing it with long, sharp claws, growling as it approached. Catherine grabbed the end of the ladder and pushed. She has a split second of horrific panic when she discovered it was nailed to the loft.

"Help me get it lose. We'll pull it up."

Greg grabbed the other end and the two pushed and pulled, starting to work the ladder loose. The shaking stopped the feline's ascent and made it snarl and growl.

"I thought they didn't bother people," Greg said.

"I guess they do."

"I _thought_ they were afraid of people!"

"I'm not a cougar expert, Greg! Push!"

Greg and Catherine pushed hard and the ladder gave a little suddenly. They pulled back, and then pushed again. The nails came loose and they each grabbed a side, waving it side to side to shake off the cougar. The feline fell off and they hastily pulled it up. With the ladder safely up, they sat down to catch their breath. They heard the feline moving around the barn, heard it tear something, and something crunched loudly. It began pacing, each step crunching hay.

"I'm going to kill Capri," Catherine hissed.

"Not if I get to her first," Greg told her.

The two fell silent, listening to the animal below.


	19. Present 3:11 AM

**Chapter 19 : Present – 3:11 AM**

"Grissom!" Wendy said as she made a sharp into his office and ran up to his desk.

He looked up from the ballistics report, over the top of his reading glasses.

"Grissom, I got the results back from the sperm and saliva on Capri Martinez. I--"

"All evidence has to go through Riley first. I told you that."

"I know you did, but Grissom, it's--"

"I know who it is. It has to go through Riley first, Wendy."

Wendy was speechless for a few seconds. "You know who was with her tonight?"

"Yes, and I know why. Please take that to Riley."

Wendy looked at the sheets and then him. "There's a reason?"

"Yes."

Wendy sighed. "I hope it was damned good, or he's in a lot of trouble."

Grissom watched her walk out. When there was glass between him and her, he quietly told Wendy, "Sadly, Wendy, it was."


	20. Nov 7 6:00 AM

**Chapter 20 : November 7 – 6 AM**

Catherine and Greg sat near the edge of the loft, watching the cougar watch them. It was a patient animal, vying it's time as it waited for it's prey to come down to it. It wasn't bad enough that the feline wouldn't leave, but the loft was hot and had no moving air. Catherine and Greg were both soaked in sweat, losing water their bodies desperately.

"I'm going to kill Capri," Catherine muttered.

Greg didn't answer. He'd been listening to her promise to kill Capri since dawn.

"I'm going to rip her hair out by the roots and strangle her it."

Greg closed his eyes. He was feeling lightheaded again. Even as his ability to concentrate ebbed with dehydration, his mind was still able to tell him that's what the problem was.

"Knock her ass out," Catherine muttered.

"Give it a rest, Catherine."

"What?"

"I said give it a rest. She's not here. She doesn't know anything."

"You're going to defend her?" Catherine snarled.

"I said she wasn't here. Did I say I was defending her? When you see her, I'll be the last person to stop you."

Catherine stopped talking. She didn't try to stop Greg when he laid down on the wood.

"I'm so tired," Greg said. He didn't realize he muttered it.

Across from him, Catherine's eyes began to droop.

There was a low moan that didn't get either of their attention. Slowly it grew louder with an occasional pop.

Greg opened his eyes as the two boards he'd laid on disintegrated under him. He didn't have time to scream before he hit the ground with a loud crash. The crash scared the cougar and it bolted out of the barn, but the fourteen-foot drop broke five ribs and knocked the breath out of him. He clutched his side, trying to draw the hot, dry air into his lungs.

"GREG!" Catherine screamed.

He heard her rattle around over him, and then the ladder slid over the edge and down, slamming into the ground. She scrambled down the ladder after him. She jumped the last foot and turned, freezing. The cougar was outside the barn, slinking through the weeds toward her.

"Catherine," Greg whispered. "I can't... I can't get a... breath. Catherine..."

Catherine suddenly dropped to her knees at the hay and patted around for the gun. She felt something solid and pulled it out. She sneered at the piece of charred wood, threw it at the cougar, and started patting again. She kept glancing up, watching the cougar. It seemed to know it had time and was in no hurry.

"What I wouldn't give for a human killer right now," Catherine said to herself.

"The... Cougar. Catherine," Greg whimpered.

"I know! I know!"

Catherine's hand suddenly found the gun. She ripped it out, spun, and aimed at the cougar as it sprung. She fired off a round, missed, and watched the cougar bend in the air toward Greg. She fired again and missed. However, the cougar quickly disappeared through the nearest exit instead of attacking Greg. Catherine ran over to Greg, keeping her eye where the animal had went.

"Can you get up?"

"I don't... I don't..."

She crouched down, leaning toward him. "Put your arm around my neck."

He obeyed and together they stood. Catherine grabbed up the backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and they headed for a burned out wall opposite where the feline had vanished.

"It could be hiding in here," Greg said as they started through the dead weeds that towered over both of them.

Catherine adjusted her sweaty grip on the gun, keeping a watchful eye around them. There was a slight sense of relief as they stepped out of the weeds onto the hard packed road. The two headed down it again, watching the weeds for the cougar.

"It's over there," Greg said, nodding in the direction.

Twenty feet to their right the weeds swayed as the cat pushed through them. The weeds began to grow shorter and they saw the cougar head further out into the desert, disappearing behind a ridge.

"It's going to follow us, isn't it?"

"You're hurt. It knows."

Greg looked ahead. "I'm going to kill Capri."

Catherine smiled when he glanced at her. "I get her first, Greggo."

"Deal."

They kept glancing to their right, expecting the cougar charge them at any moment.


	21. Present 1:16 AM

**Chapter 21 : Present – 1:16 AM**

Jackie held the door open for Nick as he entered the room. He walked around to the chair across from hers and sat down. Jackie joined him and sorted her papers. She hit record on the video camera before she began.

"Good morning. My name is Jackie. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Nick didn't respond, and she didn't appear to notice or care. She stopped moving and looked up at him.

"State your name."

"CSI Nicolas Stokes."

"What was your relationship with Capri Martinez?"

"There wasn't any."

"How did you feel about her?"

"I hated her, but I didn't want her dead."

"What caused you to hate her?"

"She nearly got CSI Willows and Sanders killed. She sent two EMT and me to a shootout, where one died. Two houses were burnt to the ground because she misdirected the firefighters. I don't know how many times she got floors and rooms wrong. I--"

"Did she actually send you to the shoot out?"

Nick hesitated. "What does that mean?"

"I mean, did she cause the shootout to happen?"

Nick stopped talking. He wanted to say yes. Slowly he shook his head. "No. Things were calm when we both arrived at the house. The shootout didn't start until we were leaving the house, after we knew it was the wrong one. But she still gave us the wrong directions. We were half a mile from the right location."

"You must have pushed pretty hard to have her fired."

"Yeah. So?"

"Well, if she's dead, she certainly won't be working as a dispatcher again."

"Are you saying she was rehired?" Nick asked, leaning forward.

"Is that what you'd heard?"

"I haven't heard anything about her until tonight when I was drug in here, presumably accused of her murder."

"So you didn't know that dispatch had hired her as their receptionist?"

"No. Why would I care about her being a receptionist?"

"Seems a lot of EMS and CSI have assumed she was rehired as a dispatcher."

"And it didn't bother you that Greg Sanders and Doctor Grissom helped get her that job?"

Nick looked at Greg sitting in the hall. Why would Greg have backed her?

"As a receptionist I wouldn't _care_."

"You were on route to a call in the window Capri was murdered. I think--"

"I didn't stop to murder her."

Jackie looked over the top of the paper at him. "I think we can rule out you as a suspect. The length of time it takes to get from the lab to the crime scene was twenty minutes. You made it in eighteen." Jackie sat the paper down. "We're done. Thank you for your time."

Nick walked out into the hall. He stopped by Greg and the two looked at each other. There were questions running through Nick's mind.

"Good luck," Nick told him and then walked away.

Those questions could wait.


	22. Nov 7 3:00 PM

**Chapter 22 : November 7 – 3 PM**

Grissom, Nick, and Ecklie stood outside of the dispatch conference room. Gary and another supervisor had been in with Capri for a half hour. They were trying to get her to remember the directions she'd given Catherine and Greg, something she had conveniently forgotten in the last 24 hours. The door opened and Gary slipped out, closing the door behind him. He stood in front of it, as if he expected one or all of them to rush in to string Capri up.

And what he told them almost made Nick do just that.

"She doesn't remember what she told them," Gary started. "She showed us how she looked up the address and it leads directly to the crime scene. Is there, by chance, any chance, they may have, you know, maybe, heard it wrong? Wrote it down wrong?"

"They didn't hear or write it down wrong, Gary!" Nick growled. "I heard the last part of the directions because and her refusing to verify the directions for Catherine."

"She said Catherine was being rude."

"Of course she _did_! She's a conniving self-centered bitch that probably got this job because of her tits!"

Conrad and Grissom both looked Nick, surprised that he was letting his anger out so venomously.

"What?" Nick demanded from both of them.

Grissom decided to ignore Nick for the moment. "Gary, my CSI have been missing for twenty-four hours. We need to know where to start the search. Obviously they aren't at the crime scene or on route. Last I knew, Catherine was driving and she would not have taken a turn that dispatch did not tell her to take. Capri has the information we need to find these CSI and you need to express on her that CSI returning means something happened. I'd like to think optimistically and that they're fine and will be back soon, but you and I both know the reality. Law enforcement persons do not fail to report back unless something has gone terribly wrong."

Gary stared at Grissom for a minute.

"I'll keep questioning her," he promised.

"Thank you."

Gary went back into the conference room. Grissom glanced at Nick when he spun around and walked over to the front doors. He slammed his hand on the bar and stormed outside.

"He's taking this kind of personal," Ecklie commented.

"The last call she sent him on last night ended up putting him and two EMT between two gangs in a shoot out," Grissom explained. "He's not going to let this go until Catherine and Greg are safe."

Ecklie walked over to a chair and sat down. "Why were Gina, Bobby, and Archie out searching today?"

"They volunteered."

Ecklie nodded. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"We'll give them until start of shift."

"It's going to be difficult looking for them in the dark."

Ecklie looked up at him. "Do you know where Capri sent them?"

"I just said--

"Searching for them without a direction isn't much better, is it?"

Grissom slowly nodded. "I see your point."

"Get Stokes out of here. Grab a bite or something. As soon as Gary has something to give us, I'll call you."

Grissom nodded. He left the building, joining Nick standing at the curb of the parking lot. He was looking off to the west.

"I'm worried, Grissom."

"I know."

Nick looked at Grissom. "I want Capri fired. She is endangering everyone and she hasn't gotten better in a week. She's a liability to all EMS and CSI."

"I know, Nick, but it's not our call."

"And if Catherine and Greg end up dead? Whose call is it then?"

"Let's believe that isn't going to happen, then we won't have to figure it out."

Nick nodded.

"Let's get a cup of coffee and wait for Conrad calls us."

Nick didn't answer, but he followed Grissom when he started walking.


	23. Present 2:00 AM

**Chapter 23 : Present – 2:00 AM**

Riley sighed as she watched the fume hood fill with smoke, surrounding the tubing. Henry leaned in next to her.

"What this?"

"Tubing that was used to strangle Capri Martinez. What do you have?"

"Tox from your assault last week." Henry handed her the papers. "That looks like the tubing they use for intravenous lines."

Riley sat up, looking at him. She opened her notes and flipped through pages. She grabbed a desk phone.

"Thanks Henry," she told him as she dialed an extension.

"For what?" he asked.

"Brass," Brass answered.

To brass she asked, "On the Capri Martinez file you had a statement from a neighbor that they saw an ambulance?"

"Yeah. But it was dead end. The three services that have blue and white ambulances don't have one that's three fourteen."

"Did you check for a thirty-one or fourteen?"

"I'm not sure why an ambulance would be there, but I doubt it's a medic."

"With all due respect, Brass, I think it might be. Henry pointed out that the tubing looks like the kind they use for intravenous lines. It does. And..." Riley hesitated as fingerprints started showing across the tubing. "I'm getting a few fingerprints, and I bet none of them match Greg."

"That's a bet I'd see you. I'll call them again and check. Sit tight." Brass hung up.

Riley turned to Henry, smiling. "Good job. We'll make a CSI out of you yet."

"Oh no! I'm happy in my lab. See you around."

She smiled, watching him leave. She turned back to the tubing, waiting for the rest of the fingerprints to finish forming.


	24. Nov 7 10:30 PM

**Chapter 24 : November 7 – 10:30 PM**

Their flashlight beams bounced along the road as the two slowly walked. They had frequently seen the cougar through most of the day – following them at a distance, watching them from behind rocks, waiting. As dusk came, they hadn't noticed that it had been hours since they'd last seen it, but the entire day of seeing it had put them both on edge. They decided to keep walking and their walking had slowed to a crawl. They didn't notice that the rutted road had turned into a smooth, well-groomed gravel road. In the dark with just flashlights, they didn't see they were starting to pass mailboxes and lanes leading to hidden homes. The same homes that had been hidden when they'd passed them three days earlier.

Catherine heard a sound that made her slow to a stop.

"Greg," she said in a hoarse voice. Her mouth was so dry she could barely speak. She had stopped sweating long before dusk and it didn't cross her mind this was a symptom of severe dehydration.

Greg stopped but didn't turn. His eyes started to droop and suddenly he collapsed.

As fast as she could, Catherine hurried to his side. She knelt down, laying her hand on his forehead. She couldn't tell if his skin was hot from sunburn or fever.

"Greg, wake up," Catherine told him.

She sat up, hearing a car driving on gravel. She stood, looking in both directions. It was another few minutes before she saw lights coming from the direction they had been walking. She moved in front of Greg, watching the lights. She had never hoped for something so much in her life.

Suddenly the lights turned and the sound of the car began to fade.

"Come back..." Catherine whispered.

After a few minutes the sound was gone and another few minutes passed before she saw the headlights of they crossed the black, open expanse below her.

"Please come back," Catherine begged the car.

The headlights flashed across a house and shut off. A few moments later lights came on in the house.

She looked down at Greg. She couldn't convince herself to leave him helpless in the middle of the road. Catherine slowly sat down next to him. She stared at her flashlight for a minute before switching it off. Complete dark enveloped her until her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the trillions of stars overhead. She stared up at them all night, listening to the night sounds and Greg's breathing.


	25. Present 3:45 AM

**Chapter 25 : Present – 3:45 AM**

Greg watched the Jackie sit down across from him. She flashed him a smile, but he didn't return it. He looked down at the table, trying to discreetly brush away a tear. Jackie paused to watch him.

"Do you need a moment before I start the tape?" she asked.

Greg nodded.

She waited. He cleared his throat once he'd gathered himself.

"Go ahead," Greg quietly told her.

Jackie started the tape. "My name is Jackie. Please state your name."

"CSI Greg Sanders."

"What was your relationship with Capri Martinez?"

Greg tried to hold it together, but the question was too difficult. He started crying. Jackie waited. Greg collected himself and wiped his face dry.

"She was my fiancée."

Greg didn't notice the shocked look or that she began shuffling through papers.

"For how long?" Jackie asked.

Twelve hours."

Jackie stopped shuffling papers to stare at him.

"You asked her tonight?"

Greg nodded.

"You were late getting to work. An hour late. She was killed sometime between nine and midnight, when her friend found her. Unfortunately, Greg, that time frame would have given you time to have killed her."

"She said yes." Greg looked up at Jackie. "Why on Earth would I kill a woman who just said yes to marriage?"

"Perhaps you were afraid of her getting to be a dispatcher again."

"Look, a year ago, Capri started working as a dispatcher. She really sucked. About a week after she started, I was angry with her for giving me wrong directions all night, and went in to confront her about it. I was standing there behind her, she didn't know I was there, and watching her. She was using a static map, a paper map. I heard the address she was looking up, and I watched her follow the right route but she was telling the directions for the opposite way. I pressed her until she admitted she was dyslexic. Gary, her supervisor, he knew about this, but she'd scored really high on her test, so he kept quiet and gave her a shot. I thought I was helping by not saying anything too. I told her I'd work with her on memorizing the maps and try to keep everyone else off her back. She was getting better. Then she sent CSI Willows and me out into the middle of the desert and I almost died. I was ready to give up on her, but every day for a week she came to the hospital to apologize until I forgave her."

"At what point did you two become involved?"

"After that. We started dating for about eight months. Then I found out she'd become a prostitute."

"What did you do when you found out?"

"I broke up with her. I told her I couldn't date a prostitute for a lot of reason – mainly she's cheating on me every time she sleeps with someone for money. Capri seemed to understand."

"She wanted to break up?"

"No. I said she seemed to understand."

"How did you two get back together?"

"Two weeks ago she came over and told me she'd quit. She promised me she'd never go back."

"When did you decide to ask her to marry you?"

"Last week. I mean, she gave up prostitution, she was taking business classes, she was trying to set her life straight. Somewhere in all that I realized how much I loved her and I wanted her to be my wife... So I brought her a stack of wedding magazines and gave her the ring yesterday afternoon. She said yes."

"Your DNA was found on her. Can you explain that?"

Greg smiled, almost out of disbelief. "You're a woman. A man you love, a man you quit a job for so you could be with him, just asked you to marry him. What would be the first thing you'd do?"

"You tell me," Jackie said.

Greg understood. She had to have him tell her for the investigation.

"We had sex. Then she made me supper and I was late because we had sex again."

"There's a rumor that you were behind getting her hired back as a dispatcher."

"Receptionist. I've heard that rumor too."

"Seems that everyone thinks she was going to be dispatcher."

"No. Gary nearly lost his own job for trying to cover up her dyslexia. He agreed to hire her as a replacement when their receptionist left next week. There was no way he'd let her be a dispatcher again."

"Did you ever tell anyone you had spoken to Gary about this?"

"I'd mentioned it to our receptionist, Gina, and one of the lab techs, Archie. People really thought she was going to be a dispatcher again?"

"Yes."

Greg looked away, as if a hard realization just punched him in the gut.

"Thank you, Greg. We're done."

Greg got up and walked out into the hall, finding Grissom sitting in the chairs. He stood when Greg came out.

"When Capri was a prostitute, did she have a pimp?" Grissom asked.

Greg nodded. "James Peshi. His street name is Holes."

"Was he brunette?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. You missed your lunch. Why don't you step out for an hour or two?"

Greg nodded but didn't move.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I can't imagine what this must feel like."

Greg didn't respond. Grissom patted Greg's arm as he rushed past. Greg started slowly walking down the hall.


	26. Nov 8 9:17 AM

**Chapter 26 : November 8 – 9:17 AM**

Catherine held onto Greg's wrist as they walked down the drive toward the farm in the valley. He hadn't said a word since he'd woken up. She told him about the farm nearby and that was enough to convince him to move. She didn't know why she couldn't let go of his wrist. Maybe she wanted the support. Maybe she wanted to make sure he stayed with her and didn't pass out again.

"Almost there, Greggo," Catherine said, motioning ahead.

They were passing corrals, stumbling toward a house surrounded by several large cottonwood trees around it. There were three cows and two horses in the corral. The animals lifted their heads as the two passed by. Three dogs came out of hiding and ran at the two barking. Catherine didn't flinch or stop. The dogs stopped barking and surrounded them. The front door opened and a man stepped onto the porch, shading his eyes. It took him a full two minutes to recognize Greg and Catherine needed help.

"Carla, get water!" he yelled as he leapt off the porch and ran to them.

"Help Greg. His ribs are broken," Catherine told him.

He slid an arm around Greg and one of Greg's arms over his neck. He helped Greg onto the porch and into an Adirondack chair. Catherine followed them, easing into the Adirondack chair next to Greg. The door opened and a slender woman came out carrying two glasses of ice water. Catherine took hers and started sipping it. She looked at Greg when the woman stopped beside him. He stared at the glass, but didn't take it. Catherine sat her glass on the porch and knelt at his side. She took the glass, lifting it to his lips.

"Take little sips," Catherine told him. "Little ones."

Greg did as she told him.

"How long have you two been out here?" the man asked.

"Four days, I think." Catherine looked up at him. "We need a ride back to Las Vegas. I have some money. I can--"

"You don't have to pay for it, but it looks like you need an ambulance. He looks bad."

Catherine looked at Greg. She hadn't really paid attention to how he looked. His eyes had sunken. Skin that wasn't sunburned had a yellowish tint. His sunburned skin, like hers, was blistered and bright red. He had gone into shock and was responding by instinct.

"I know we do, but there's someone that has to know what happened."

"I'll drive you in," the woman said. "Rest here. I'll go get the car cooled off."

"Thank you."

She trotted down the stairs toward a garage. The man moved around when the door opened and a child and teenager stepped out. Catherine looked up at the man, seeing him eye behind her. She remembered her Glauc was stuck in her waistband against her back. She reached in her front pocket and pulled out her badge, holding it up.

"We're CSI. We were trying to find a crime scene and got lost. It's okay."

He took it, looked it over, and then handed it back with a slight smile. "It's easy to get lost out here if you don't know the area."

Catherine nodded, turning back to Greg. She held the glass up so he could sip more water.

"Stay with me, Greggo, okay?"

He barely nodded, making her smile. He wasn't as far gone as he looked.

#

"Bravo Whisky 456, alter course. CSI Grissom is requested at dispatch," someone said across the headphones.

Grissom looked at the pilot as he turned the helicopter.

"Base," Grissom said.

"Go ahead."

"Has Dispatcher 324 recalled the directions?"

"Negative." There was a short pause. He heard laughter in the person's voice when they added, "CSI Willows has assaulted Dispatcher 324, sir."

Nick laughed.

Grissom sighed, sitting back. There was some relief in just knowing Catherine was at the dispatch building, even if she had assaulted Capri.


	27. Present 5:45 AM

**Chapter 27 : Present – 5:45 AM**

Brass looked up as Holes was led in by a policeman and pushed into a chair.

"Holes... You don't call. Don't write. I'm beginning to think you don't like visiting with me."

"This is harassment, Jimbo. Officers didn't even tell me what I was being arrested for."

"Oh. You're not arrested. Yet. I just wanted to have a chat with you."

"A chat, huh? This is how you chat with all your informants?"

"Naw. Just my special ones. Holes, let's not be so professional. I'd like to talk to you about a prostitute"

Holes grinned a rotted teeth, chapped lip grin. He leaned on the table, sliding a little as he got some traction under the satin sleeves of his shirt.

"You're interested in a whore? I have some choice ones just for my cop friends."

"Oh yeah? I'm pretty picky."

"Just tell me what you're looking for."

Brass picked up the manila folder sitting on the table and opened it. "How about a brunette? Got one of those?"

"Lots of them. That it?"

"Naw. A little Latino. Maybe in her twenties. Light brunette. About five foot four, maybe five foot five."

Holes sat back. "If you want to ask me about someone particular, just ask. Stop being a dick."

Brass chuckled. "Now is that any way to treat a friend, Holes?"

Holes just frowned.

"Her real name is Capri Martinez."

"Man! I ain't responsible for that chick no more. I kicked her ass to the curb three weeks ago!"

"Why? You're not known for letting your girls just go."

"You don't have proof of that."

"Don't remind me. Back to this girl. Why'd you let her go?"

"She asked.

"She asked and you just let her go?"

"Yeah."

Brass stared at Holes until he finally broke down. "Fine! She asked to be let go. We got into a fight about it. She told me I was either going to kill her or let her go, she wasn't working for me anymore. I asked her why the sudden change in heart. She wasn't my best girl, but she brought in some good money. She said she want to go back to an old boyfriend and he wouldn't take her as long as she was a whore. She was in love. Got all stupid faced when she told me about him. I tried to get her to work for the next two days but she stopped bringing in money. So I let her go."

"Before or after you beat her up?"

"I don't beat on my girls."

"Uh-huh. So where were you tonight, Holes?"

"With your mom."

"Cute. Capri's dead."

Holes stared at him, probably waiting to see if there was a joke here. When Brass didn't show signs it was a joke, Holes shook his head.

"Her boyfriend kill her?"

"If we thought it was the boyfriend, why would we suspect you?"

"I didn't touch her, Jimbo!"

"Don't call me Jimbo. And if you're so sure about that, you'll give us a few hairs. We already have your prints from your last chat."

"Fine. Take hair. I haven't seen her in three weeks."

Brass motioned to the officer and he left to get a CSI.


	28. Nov 8 10:45 AM

**Chapter 28 : November 8 – 10:45 AM**

Grissom and Nick rushed through the door and stopped short. Greg sat in a reception chair. All of his exposed skin was shocking red under the fluorescent lights. Soot and dirt was smeared across his clothes, hands, and face. Casey was kneeling next to him, quietly talking to him, while he was gently setting up an I.V. His new partner stood at the door, staring across the call center.

"...AND IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, THE DAMNED THING STALKED US MOST OF THE FUCKING DAY!" Grissom heard Catherine scream.

"I got Greg. Go." Nick told Grissom.

As he turned the corner he heard Nick tell Greg, "Stick around, Greggo, okay?"

Grissom followed Catherine's voice into the call center. Two men – one muscular and the other large and stout – were trying to hold her back by the arms. She looked just as bad ad Greg, but either adrenaline or rage had given her enough strength that the men were struggling. Gary and another woman were holding an outraged Capri back. The dispatcher's nose was bleeding and her eye was starting to color with a bruise.

"SO HELP ME," Catherine bellowed. "IF GREG CAN'T WORK BECAUSE OF YOUR SO CALLED _LITTLE MISTAKE_, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER, EVER, EVER GET A JOB IN THIS TOWN. YOU NEVER CHECKED THE DIRECTIONS! YOU'RE JUST COVERING YOUR ASS WITH THAT LIE! TO DO IT TO ME IS ONE THING, BUT GREG... HE'S THE _ONLY_ CSI THAT EVER DEFENDED YOUR SORRY EXCUSE FOR A DISAPTCHER ASS! HE _TRUSTED_! YOU ACT LIKE THE WORLD OWES YOU SOMETHING. THE ONLY THING THE WORLD OWES YOU IS A MATCHING BLACK EYE!"

"I am going to sue you for this one!" Capri snarled.

Catherine suddenly broke free and charged Capri. She slammed her against a wall, pinning her there.

"You even try, even breathe one word to a lawyer that you're thinking about it, Capri, I will destroy you. Don't test me, bitch. Do not think I can't take everything you own from you in the blink of an eye. This was my town before you were even a thought, little girl! Do you _feel_ me?"

Capri stared at her. Catherine didn't back down or let go. Finally Capri nodded.

"You're going to quit now, aren't you?"

Capri slowly nodded.

Catherine stepped back, not taking her eyes off Capri. Gary grabbed Capri's arm and pulled her away. He motioned to Grissom to get Catherine out of the building. Grissom nodded and walked up to her. Catherine didn't resist him taking her hand and leading her away. In an instant all her strength disappeared and she grabbed his arm, leaning heavy on him. Grissom put his arm around her waist, holding her up as they walked.

She laid her head against his shoulder. "Can I go the hospital now?"

"Your ride is waiting."

They came back to the reception area and he sat her down in a chair next to Greg.

"How you doing, Catherine?" Nick asked.

The other EMT began working on Catherine.

"Better. Now."

Nick smiled, understanding what she meant.

"Did you hit her?" Greg asked Catherine.

"Yes. Once for me, once for you."

"Thanks."

The two didn't speak again.


	29. Present 10:45 AM

**Chapter 29 : Present – 10:45 AM**

EMT Casey Thompson watched Grissom and Brass walk in. Brass stopped, leaning on the chair at the end of the table. Grissom took a seat across from Casey. He opened the file folder and sorted through the items to find the one he wanted to start with. Casey looked from Brass to Grissom and back.

"Is it true?" Casey asked.

Brass and Grissom both looked at him.

"Is what true?" Grissom asked.

"Was Greg really engaged to that girl?"

"Yes. Casey, we subpoenaed your fingerprints that you gave when you began working at Life Shield. They matched the fingerprints on the tubing used to strangle Capri, and--"

"I heard that Greg is a suspect. Is he?"

Grissom hesitated a moment. "We aren't talking about Greg."

"Is he or not?"

"I can't answer that."

"He is, isn't he?"

Grissom didn't confirm or deny the question. Casey leaned on the table.

"Why would he get involved with her? She led my partner and me right into a shootout. He died because of her. And then there were those three firefighters trying to find a place in a hail storm, and drove right off an unfinished overpass because of her directions. She nearly got Catherine and Greg killed by stranding them in the desert. Why would he want to marry her?"

"Casey, the firefighter's never received directions from Capri. They were using their GPS which had been tampered with. The shootout happened because of the CSI vehicle, not because you were in the wrong place. The gang members were following Nick. Catherine decided not to turn back when she realized the directions were wrong."

"She still couldn't get the directions right!"

"Casey, your thumbprint--"

"And then I found out she was re-hired. They were going to put her back on the radio! Dispatch didn't figure out a year ago that she was a danger to everyone?"

"You believed she was rehired as a dispatcher?"

"Yes!"

"Is that why you killed her?" Grissom asked. Casey seemed all too willing to talk.

"I have to know if Greg is a suspect. Is he?"

"Why would that matter?"

Casey hesitated. Grissom leaned forward.

"Casey, did you kill Capri?"

Casey looked down at his hands. "Greg didn't hurt her. I saw him leave her place, saw them kiss. He deserved better than that tramp. I saved him from a dangerous woman."

"Did you kill her?"

"Yes."

"For Greg or your partner?"

"For everyone!" Casey looked up at him. "For every EMS out there. For every CSI. She was coming back! She was going to get more people killed. More victims would die because we couldn't get to them in time. I saved more lives by killing one."

Grissom sighed. "I'm afraid, Casey, utilitarianism doesn't clear you of murder charges."

"You're under arrest, Casey. Come on," Brass said as he took his arm and pulled him to his feet to handcuff him.

"I saved Greg, Doctor Grissom."

"Greg was in love, Casey. He didn't need a savior. And Capri had been hired as a receptionist, not as a dispatcher."

Casey stared at Grissom as if what Grissom had just said cut him to the bone. Grissom wasn't sure if it was finding out what job Capri really had been given, or something much deeper, that caused Casey's pain.

#

Behind the one-way mirror, Greg had watched and listened to the interview. Internally he rushed into the room and threw Casey out of the chair. He ripped his limbs off and scratched out the EMT's eyes. He strung him up from the beam overhead with a noose and with a cold, hateful glare, watched the man asphyxiate. It made him smile when Casey stopped twitching.

But in the real world, Greg did nothing. He watched the man led out of the room in silence. His hands, clammy and limp, hung motionless at his sides. The door closed, shutting Casey from his view. Grissom gathered up his case file, also leaving. Greg stared at the empty room.

"I'm sorry, Greg," a soft voice said.

Was it Capri? Was she really alive? Greg's heart leapt as he turned his head. Then it sunk back into his black depression when he found Grissom standing there. Greg looked away.

"Is there anything I can do?" Grissom asked.

Greg didn't answer.

"Do you need me to call anyone? Did she have family?"

Greg slowly shook his head.

"None?"

"I was it."

Grissom walked up to Greg, reaching out a hand. Greg dodged it, turning to face Grissom. The thought of any human touching him made Greg's rage flare. He didn't want human contact. He didn't want anyone near him. Grissom seemed to sense it and didn't try again.

"How long do you want for bereavement?" Grissom asked.

Greg didn't answer.

Grissom nodded, adding as if Greg had said something, "Two weeks is okay. If you need longer or less, you can call me. I'll make it happen."

Greg didn't speak.

Grissom turned and left. Greg sank to the floor and hugged his knees. He couldn't cry, even though he felt the need. His scream was stuck like sticky dough in his chest. Greg closed his eyes. The adrenaline that had been coursing through him all night slowly let go of him, and he slipped into sleep. Relaxing, his body slid to the floor, leaving him in deep sleep.

That was where Nick found him when he came looking for him. He left and came back with a blanket, a handful of case files, and a soda. He covered Greg, sat down next to him, and started writing reports he'd been procrastinating on for weeks.


End file.
